


Unspoken Truths

by spookyawards_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Short, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-06-12
Updated: 2003-06-12
Packaged: 2019-04-27 06:58:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14420007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyawards_archivist/pseuds/spookyawards_archivist
Summary: Scully, Doggett and Reyes react to the events of "William."





	Unspoken Truths

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Spooky Awards](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Spooky_Awards), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [SpookyAwards' collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/spookyawards/profile).

 

Unspoken Truths

## Unspoken Truths

### by Scifinerdgrl

Title: Unspoken Truths  
Author: Scifinerdgrl  
Rating: G   
Classification: SR  
Keywords: Post-Episode (William), Doggett/Reyes romance, Scully/Reyes friendship 

Summary: Scully, Reyes and Doggett react to the events of "William" 

Spoilers: William 

Archive: Please ask, please tell 

Ever since the day she drove Dana Scully home from the adoption agency, Monica Reyes had been avoiding her friend. As an adoptee herself, she felt she _should_ look optimistically at the adoption of her godson, but she just couldn't. He would be loved, just as she had been, and Scully's mind would be at ease knowing her unusual child would be safe, but although she knew there was love behind the decision it still didn't sit well. 

Because knowing wasn't feeling. And what Monica felt was the most intense grief she'd ever felt. It was silly, she scolded herself. He wasn't _her_ child, after all. But she missed him. She missed babysitting for him, and playing with him, and she even missed seeing his pictures multiplying on Dana's desk. 

And she mourned for her own chance to watch the boy grow up. It would be a vicarious joy, of course, because it looked less and less likely that she would have a child of her own, but it would have been joy nonetheless. And although she knew she shouldn't feel this way, she was angry with Dana for taking away this joy she had so openly shared with her from the day Monica helped her bring him into the world. 

John noticed, of course. He had his own feelings on the matter, remarkably similar feelings. But just like Monica, he chose to keep his own counsel. Who was he to pass judgment on Dana Scully? His own son had been abducted and killed, and William had nearly suffered the same fate. The world was a dangerous place for any child, but especially for this one. How could he fault a parent for wanting her child to be safe? 

But he couldn't help being a little angry. After all, he'd protected the little tyke since before he was born, and during a few weak moments he'd even fantasized about being his stepfather. But then Mulder came back, and the Scully he knew vanished under the spell of his charm. He kept a respectful distance as her due date drew near, and then afterward, when Mulder took off for god-knows-where, she kept John at a distance. She'd kept everyone at a distance, he reminded himself, everyone except Monica, but it still hurt that the woman who'd counted on him to watch her back now treated him with suspicion. 

So when Scully came to John and Monica's office three weeks after the adoption, John was surprised. 

"I happened to be in the building and thought I'd drop by," she said with forced friendliness. 

"Hi," Monica said, looking up from her computer. She wanted to be friendly and welcoming, but she just couldn't. Not yet. 

"Dana!" John said, a little too loudly. He jumped up from his seat and gestured for her to enter. Scully wasn't fooled by his overly enthusiastic welcome, but she appreciated his effort. 

"Want to have lunch? Nothing fancy. Just a salad across the street?" Scully asked. "I know you're busy..." 

"Uh... sure," Monica said, checking John's reaction. "Just give me a minute to..." 

"Don't rush on my account," Scully said awkwardly. 

"We're just finishing up a report for A.D. Skinner," John explained. "We want to get it to him while it's fresh on our minds." 

Scully sat down and sighed. "Sometimes I miss this office." 

"Yeah?" John asked. Wasn't she the one who had urged him to get out of the X-Files office while the getting was good? He couldn't believe what he was hearing. 

"Especially now," she sighed. "I mean, lately... I have so much time on my hands." 

John glanced surreptitiously at Monica, who bent her head lower over her computer, letting her hair drape over her eyes. "Come to think of it, I'm finished with my part and I'm starving," he said. "How much ya got left, Mon?" 

"You two go on without me," Monica said. "I'll be there in ten." 

"We'll save you a seat, Monica." John said, then he stood and took Dana's elbow, and walked her to the elevator. "Oops, my wallet," he said, then dashed back to his desk, where he had indeed left his wallet. 

"Monica," John whispered. "Please come to lunch with us." 

"Can you bring me something?" she pleaded. 

He looked into her brown, puppy-dog eyes and he couldn't bring himself to say "no." "Your usual?" he asked. 

She smiled gratefully. "Thanks, John." 

Over lunch, John came to the conclusion that Scully wasn't just homesick for the office. Teaching wasn't as inspiring as she'd expected. She missed Mulder. She missed being downtown. The commute to Quantico was a hassle... 

And the unsaid hung in the air between them. Now that she didn't have a baby at home, there was no reason for her to stay in her new position. And although he knew it would be impossible, John suspected she wanted to go back to the way things were before William was born. 

When they'd finished their meal, Scully glanced at the empty seat. "I guess Monica isn't coming," she said. 

"Maybe I should take her something," he said. "She's probably starving." He could feel her eyes watching him as he moved down the salad bar, choosing the rabbit food he knew Monica loved, making a show of studying the selections in the hope that Scully wouldn't see his guilty eyes. After he paid for Monica's salad, he took a mint then grinned at her encouragingly. "Ready to go back?" 

He regretted his choice of words, but they managed to stick to small talk as they crossed the street, then found her car in the garage. 

"Thank you, John," Scully said as they stood next to the car. She fiddled with her keys and looked down at them as if they were fascinating toys. "I needed to vent." 

"No problem," John said, shifting his feet. 

"I really miss having a partner," she blurted out. "And I'm just not cut out to be a teacher." 

John noted that Scully's eyes were on the salad container in his hand. He had a new partner now. He'd moved on, in more ways than one. What could he say? He attempted a weak smile, then said, "You still have friends." 

"Yes, I do," she said, taking the small comfort offered to her. "Thank you for everything." 

When John returned to the office, he found Monica leaning back in her chair, fighting back tears. Pretending not to notice, he set the salad on her desk. "She didn't give it a thought," he reassured her. 

"Thanks, John," Monica smiled weakly. "I just couldn't..." 

"I know," he said. He went to his desk, pulled out some files, then switched on his computer. "I wish you would though. She's lonely." 

Monica sighed and started opening her salad. Lonely? What does Dana Scully know about loneliness? Everybody in the damn bureau had gone out of their way to help her, including Monica, and her mother was still staying with her. Monica went home to an empty apartment every night, the love of her life treated her like one of the guys, and her mother was thousands of miles away. Dana Scully is lonely? hmph! If anything John should be urging Dana to spend time with Monica! 

The salad looked delicious. Perfect, in fact. But suddenly she wasn't hungry. She buried her face in her hands and squeezed her eyes closed, as if doing that could help her take back her momentary lapse. It was so unlike her, but it reared its ugly head every time John showed any kindness toward Scully. Until now she'd been able to quash it, but today... 

His hand on her shoulder made her jump. She hadn't heard him cross the office. What was happening to her? 

"Want to talk about it?" he asked. Before she could say "no" he set one hip on the edge of her desk and put his hands on his leg. 

She leaned back in her chair. "Not really," she said. 

"Sure?" he asked, not moving. 

She smiled at his persistence. Yes, he knew her well. "Did Dana say she missed me?" 

John's heart sank. No, he realized. Dana hadn't even mentioned Monica, except when they were preparing to leave. He struggled with the decision whether to tell Monica the truth, and let out a sigh. 

"I thought so," she said bravely. "Well... I don't babysit for adults. Only for babies." 

"That's not what I..." 

"I know what you meant, John," Monica said. "You feel sorry for her. Well, I don't. Not one bit!" She crossed her arms and stared defiantly into his baby blue eyes. "If you think she needs companionship, _you_ spend time with her!" 

"You're right," he said softly. "Maybe I should. After all, I've lost a child too. You've never even been a parent..." 

Monica couldn't help it. The tears started coming and she could tell she wasn't going to be able to stop them until she told John everything. "I probably never will, either," she sobbed. "She had the chance of a lifetime and she just threw it away! How could she do that?" 

So that was it! John scolded himself for not seeing the signs. Monica working in the Crimes Against Children Division. Monica feeling his and Barbara's grief so deeply. The boy in Pennsylvania who could have chosen Leyla to torture, but chose Monica instead. It was an odd kind of compliment, but that creepy kid could see the strength of Monica's maternal instinct, and that's what made her an easy target for him. John couldn't see it before, when Luke's unsolved murder still weighed on his mind, but now it seemed clear as day. Monica loved children. That was the Big Truth that made him love her and fear her. 

John sat motionless and silent, knowing instinctively that touching her or comforting her would have the wrong effect, as Monica gave vent to her feelings. She needed to let it out, not to fight it, and he would let her. 

She put her elbows on her desk and rested her head in her hands. "I don't know why I'm doing this," she apologized when she could catch her breath. "It's none of my business what someone else does with her baby..." 

"We both had special feelings for him," John said gently. "I'd be worried about you if you didn't feel sad." 

"Do you?" she asked, raising her tear-stained face to look into his. "Feel sad, I mean?" 

"Yes," he said. "But I wasn't there for her as much as you were." 

"No," she agreed. "You were avoiding her." 

Her answer startled him, but on reflection he decided she was right. "Sometimes. But I think she was avoiding me, too. She likes you, though." 

"William liked me too," she said. "Did you know that? He recognized me. When I came over he used to greet me with the loudest, most obnoxious, high-pitched squeaky-door squeal..." The tears overwhelmed her again, but she persevered, barely eking out her guilty prideful secret: "Dana said I was the only babysitter he squealed for. He didn't even squeal for her!" 

She broke down again, and despite his resolution to keep his distance, John slid closer to her and pulled her toward him for an awkward hug. As she sobbed into his chest he balanced precariously on his hip and stroked her back as best he could. "I'm so sorry, Monica," he whispered. 

At his words, she gave full vent to her grief, wailing into his chest and grabbing his jacket in her fists. "I miss him!" 

They stayed that way until she'd gotten it all out, then Monica pulled away, blushing. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm not really this emotional." 

"Yes, you are," he said. "In your way." He'd never thought of her that way before, but now it all seemed so clear. She felt things every bit as deeply as he did, and maybe even _more_ deeply. Her feelings were the source of her strength and courage, not a sign of weakness. "It's what I love about you," he said, smiling kindly. 

Love? Monica's heart skipped a beat. Did he just say what she thought he did? 

"Well, one of the things I love about you," he added, when he saw the surprise in her face. "There are many." 

"John..." She wanted to say more but she was speechless. That word again. It echoed in her ears. 

"If Dana asks for a transfer back to this office, A.D. Skinner won't turn her down," he said, taking her hand. "It's just a matter of time before they separate us." 

Monica's heart now felt like it was falling fifty stories down an elevator shaft. Separated? 

"I think I should be the one to go," he said. "I've been thinking of quitting anyway. But if you really can't work with her..." 

"You've been thinking of quitting?" she gasped. "Why?" 

"This office, it's not me," he confessed. "I only stayed cause if I left..." 

"Yeah," Monica interrupted. She didn't want to hear about conspiracies and aliens right now. 

"And there's another thing," he said, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. "Maybe it's this job, or there's something in the air in here," he looked around their shared office for emphasis. "But last year, before Mulder came back, I was starting to, well... _feel_ things for Dana that I shouldn't have." 

Although he had never told her this before, it was old news to Monica. The whole Hoover Building knew, and Brad Follmer had made a point of telling her several times. "And that's why you don't want to work with her again," she said. 

"No! That's not it!" he said, pulling on her hand. He stood up, and she felt herself rising as he pulled on her hand. He backed toward the door, still holding her hand, and slammed it shut with his free hand. "It's happened again, Monica. I'm feeling... " He struggled for a moment, both with the words and with the decision to tell her, but finally he put it together and said, "I'm feeling inappropriate feelings for you. And this time, I want to see if they're the real thing." 

Oh they are, she wanted to say, but she bit her lip and pulled her hand free from his grip. "But not while we're working together," she said. Even she could hear the disappointment in her voice. 

"If I quit the bureau I can stay in D.C., take you to the movies, to the zoo..." He reached for her hand again. "Do it right. See if it's the same when we're not on the clock..." 

"We've been together off the clock," Monica pointed out. 

"Yeah, I guess we have," he said sheepishly. 

"And if you didn't feel inappropriate things for me then..." she said. 

"Oh, I did," he answered, unable to keep from smirking. "Many times!" 

"And now Dana might want to come back," she said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Are you afraid I'd pitch a fit if I had to work with her? Because I wouldn't." 

"No?" He pulled closer to her. "You like my plan?" 

"I like it," she said, pulling him as he pulled on her. 

"Which part?" he asked. 

"The part where we go to the movies and the zoo," she answered. "I like that part a lot. In fact, I like it so much I don't want to wait for it." 

By now they were standing mere inches from each other. "No?" John said, starting to feel a little nervous. "But the rules..." 

"Rules are for people who care whether they get fired," she said. "People who are thinking of quitting don't have to worry about them." 

"Monica...." he said, his voice taking on a gravelly quality she found irresistible. 

"What?" she asked, pulling him even closer. 

"Your career..." He made a weak attempt to pull away and failed miserably. 

"I'm not worried," she said. 

He pulled away finally, then put his hands on her shoulders. "Monica, I couldn't let you risk your career..." 

"What risk?" she said. "We get caught, you quit. Or I quit - \- I've thought about it too. And then Dana comes back. And everybody's happy." She rubbed her hands over his. "But seriously, John, even if Skinner finds out, would we be fired?" 

He couldn't help smiling. Skinner doubtless knew about Scully and Mulder, but he'd never said a thing. "You're starting to make sense, Agent Reyes," he said. 

"Good," she said. "Because I've been having some very inappropriate feelings for you, and I _know_ it's the real thing." 

His hands moved upward to cup her chin. Looking into her eyes, still moist from crying over William, he saw that it was true. And in their watery depths he could see the reflections of his own eyes, and they told him his feelings were the real thing too. He didn't need time away from the office to know that. Not really. He was finally free to love a child again, which meant that he was free to love a woman who loved children. 

"One thing I've learned in this job," he said, smiling broadly. "Is that Agent Reyes is almost always right." 

She blushed, and when he leaned in to kiss her she knew that in this one instance she was very right. 

**THE END**   
  


#### If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Scifinerdgrl


End file.
